My Marvelous Misadventure
by MaoIsSleepy
Summary: Not that I'm so organized that I have my schedule memorized, but I'm pretty sure that dying, getting transferred to another universe that I happen to know the future of, saving the world multiple times, and meeting a short, temperamental demon with a power complex was NOT on it. I don't think I need to double check. HieiXOc
1. My Life (Is Cut Short)

**Disclaimer: I do not own Yu Yu Hakusho...**

I died.

Sorry if that's not the poetic masterpiece you were expecting from me, but my death was disappointing like that, too. Oh, how I wish I could say I died for a good cause, like selflessly jumping in front of my best friend as someone shot him, or getting hit by a car whilst saving an injured puppy. Oh no, I died in a way that was so ridiculous, so pathetic, so... Impossible that no one figured out how - And thank goodness.

Now, I could just save myself the embarrassment of actually telling you what happened, but I decided that at least one person should know how I really departed from the world of the living. Listen up, because I'm only saying this once- and I mean it. Now, where to begin... Ah, yes.

* * *

I woke up late that morning, at 7 instead of 6. I was literally jumping out of bed and peeling off my PJ's before I even got to the bathroom. I skipped my scheduled mirror check, lacking the time and the preparation to examine my reflection, and then I grabbed my toothbrush and tuned the shower in on hot. I hated brushing my teeth in the shower because my spit always got all over my chest, but I didn't really have many options.

When I finished shampooing and conditioning, I flung the curtain open so fast that one of the rings got caught, and the bar collapsed in on itself. Wet, cold, and naked, I decided to leave it until that night. Of course I forgot to flick the fan on, so the mirror was fogged up, and my towels were wadded up in moist balls on the tile floor. I grabbed a dirty one, returned to my room, and promptly banged my head against the wall in frustration. I couldn't find anything to wear, despite my mountain of clothes that over-filled my walk-in closet.

I ended wearing a grey volleyball t-shirt, a black jacket with thumb holes on the sleeves, and black leggings that I'd worn every other day that week (and don't tell anyone, because the only one who noticed was my mom when she saw the lack of jeans in my laundry. I could still pull a couple more wears out of my ass yet).

I spent the majority of my time on my make-up, which was not a work of art in the slightest, and the rest on my hair, which I was forced to knot in a messy bun due to an extreme lack of cooperation.  
At the time when I was finally down the stairs, I saw my mom pull out of the driveway, at an illegal speed, and roll off, the slush and snow crunching under her tires. I noticed quite bitterly that the only thing she left me for breakfast was a dirty plate and an empty glass of milk, so I grabbed a granola bar and prayed it would tide me over until lunch. I smacked on my winter gear and boots and hopped to the door, momentarily leaving my backpack and duffle bag in our mudroom. I braced myself before heading out in the barren winter wasteland of my front yard, hurrying to our separated garage-shed. I flung the door open so quickly that I didn't stop to think about Calcifer. He was huddled behind the door again, and I stepped on his tail. He hissed and completely shredded my leg, until he contacted bone (warning: slight exaggeration).

"Stupid cat!" I wailed, flinging him off with a kick. He just hissed again and recuperated behind our freezer. My sister, Eydie, was the one who had begged our parents to get a cat, under the promise that she'd take care of him-But of course, that meant that I'd take care of him instead. Eydie never fed the poor thing, and she never cleaned his litter box; and still, he totally hated me. What a little ingrate.

I fed Calcifer less than the recommended amount, noting how fat and heavy he was from my mom's daily afternoon treats she'd give him during her lunch hour.

I checked my phone, swore because it was already a quarter-to eight, and ran back inside to grab my bags. When I ran up my drive-way, the bus was already pulling out. Thankfully my waving and screaming caught the driver's attention and the next thing I knew, I was on my way to school.

Well? Obviously I knew something important was going to happen that day. Obviously.

* * *

School was the same as always: Boring. Focusing on my first three classes had been a struggle once more, and the day was hardly half over.

Lunch was bearable, but I somehow managed to get three-fourths of my food on my jacket. Lizzie and Tye, my friends, often teased me about my clumsiness.

"I'll bring Sarah's bib tomorrow," Lizzie jokingly promised, pointing her fork at the stain on my sleeve. Sarah was her two year old sister, who had the same frizzy red hair and freckles. I made a face at her. Tye took a giant bite of his sandwhich and had mayo oozing out the sides of his mouth.

"Are you coming over today?" He asked with his mouth full.

"After practice," I nodded. Tye and I were practically neighbors, what with only living two houses away. We'd been friends as long as I could remember. A couple of times a week, I went over to his house to play one on one, since he had a hoop I his driveway. I had one in our garage, but it was always full of cars. In addition, stepping on Calcifer was a regular occurrence, and there was no way he wouldn't try and attack my ankles. Several times, I've tried to take giant leaps away from him so I wouldn't hurt him, only to have him dart in the wrong direction and right under my foot. I broke his foreleg once, and Eydie still hadn't forgiven me, even when I explained to her that it was his own fault.

Sometimes accidents happened.

I had gym last block, so I changed into basket clothes instead of normal athletic clothes (yes, there is a difference. Basketball shorts are longer, and the shoes are high tops for support. It just makes it a little more difficult to run, but stopping is easier). Our gym teacher was the head football coach, Couch Lure, and was well respected. He understood how to handle the un-athletic kids, and knew to push the ones in sports. After laps and lifting, the students all waited in line for the final test in our current unit, archery. Normally Coach Lure couldn't grade by skill, but archery didn't require a lot of strength, just technique and practice.

Our test was to shot a one, two, three, on the target. We continued on until a bullseye, and then we worked our way back. We went as far as we could, and we were only allowed three misses.  
I was one of four who made it to three on my way back, which tied me for second (not that it was a competition, but it's something all students keep track of for bragging rights). Lizzie, who was in the class with me, made it all the way back to one.

"Just don't overdraw," she instructed me after I retreated from the line. I was happy with how I did, but I felt like my three misses were rookie mistakes. I had just rushed, and I was kicking myself for it. Lizzie noticed and comforted me. "Make sure your feet are steady and facing the same way. One of your feet is always turned to the target, but both of them should be perpendicular," she grinned.

"Yeah, yeah, I heard you, Robin Hood," I playfully punched her in the arm. Lizzie moved here in the fifth grade, but it felt like she had been with me at birth. We did everything together, except for sports, since she was only in Tennis and I was in Volleyball, Basketball, and Track.

The bell rang and I stayed behind in the gym.

"See you tomorrow," Lizzie waved to me, making her way to the locker room.

* * *

"What the hell are you doing, Faye?" Coach Thunderman's shrill shrieks interrupted. Our play abruptly came to a stop. Thunderman's hands were bigger than my head, and his neck was bulging like it always did when he was pissed. "Get your ass over here!" he spewed at me. Scowling, I bounced the ball in my hands to a wing, Erika. She held onto it for me, sniggering.

"What do you think you're doing out there?" Thunderman thundered. "We've been scrimmaging for twenty minutes and you haven't once ran the play right. If I see you shoot one more time when you could have passed it, your ass will hit the bench so hard, you'll have to ice it!"

"Well, it's Rachel's fault for not screening! Candy can get right back on Paige, so giving her the balls an automatic turnover! You know she can't dribble!" I spat. Don't get me wrong, I liked those girls ninety percent of the time, but I didn't like losing, not even a scrimmage. Thunderman's scowl deepened and his face grew red.

"I don't want your weak ass excuses! You're smart, Faye, so use your fucking head!" He slapped his board. "Now get back there and actually run the play for once, Hotshot!" Grumbling, I went back to the top of the key and signaled Erika for the ball back. She was reluctant, but passed it back nonetheless. We butted heads sometimes, her and I, since we both played the same position.

As Point-Guard, I was happy to control where the ball went, but then I felt frustrated because I couldn't really do much down low. However, seeing Erika's face get red inspired me to try-out for the point position.

Practice was over early because half the team had a choir concert that night. I wasn't in choir because I sang like a dying cat, so I went straight to Tye's. As I approached his house, I noticed him the driveway. He greeted me with a jerk of his head. I finally got close enough to see the pavement over the hill of snow: Well, actually I didn't see pavement.

I groaned. "It snowed during school?"

"Yep," Tye deadpanned, hefting snow with his shovel. He must have just started so he wasn't even half way done. "We might need to play in a little more than sweatpants. Like maybe our boots," he joked, tossing white dust onto his covered yard.

"Still wanna play today?" I inquired. We've played through worse, but it was getting kind of dark. Tye took a break and eyed the setting sun.

"Probably shouldn't. Either way, it's my turn on the chore list," he grumbled. He had several younger and older siblings too, four brothers, and their mom used an organized list to make sure things actually got done without fights.

"I'll go get my shovel," I offered, already making my way across our neighbor's sidewalk. He nodded in thanks and returned to his digging. I headed straight into my garage, dropping my bags inside immediately because they got rather heavy.

I forgot about Calcifer. Again.

My shoe bag hit him in his face, and he recoiled with a vicious, self-preserving hiss. He darted for the door, his pure white fur disappearing against the snow.

"Shit!" I stumbled, nearly tripping over him. I felt the slap of wind hit me in my face as I dashed back outside, looking left and right. I saw Tye pause his shoveling in curiosity.

"Sorry, Tye!" I shouted "Calcifer got out again. Eydie will throw a tantrum if I don't find him!"

"That's fine, I don't think I'll need help this time," he answered.

I circled my house, but he wasn't under the porch, where he usually hid when he managed to get out. I sighed in defeat. It wasn't my fault Calcifer got hit, but he wouldn't have aimed for escape outside if it was anyone other than me. Eydie would cry for days and scream about how much she hated me. She really needed to grow up one of these days, since she was already nine.

I was just giving up and about to retrieve my bags when realized what an idiot I could be sometimes. Calcifer had left tracks in the snow, leading in the opposite direction of Tye. I made sure to lock the garage, and took off after the path.

* * *

"Great," I muttered, kicking an empty beer can out of my path. I was in my favorite part of town, where homeless men smoked cigarettes in alleyways and colorful women exposed too much skin, especially now, when it was snowing. I was surprised that I hadn't lost Calcifer's print yet, since I had wasted so much time checking around my porch. It could have easily been disrupted.

Unfortunately, it was too good to last. The tracks took a turn down an alley that was wind blocked. The only snow that was noticeable dusted the ground like sugar. I could just barely make out little paw prints, but I didn't follow them.

A woman, who was hardly any older than I was, took leisurely, swaying steps in my direction. Her legs were only shielded by black nylons and blue stilettos, and a blue dress squeezed her waist so tightly that I could see her jutted hip bones through her light coat. She couldn't have been older than nineteen, but the ridiculous amount of make-up made her appear twenty-five or twenty-six at first glance. Her dark, smooth skin was splattered with glitter and eyeliner, but it was far from masterful, as it was smudged. Her thick lips were coated in red, and her black hair was pulled back in a high pony tail. One of her hands was in her pocket, and the other held a cigarette.

Her profession wasn't hard to guess.

Standing there like a shocked, naïve little girl, I stared at her. Her blue eyes were clear and vibrant, and they stunningly stood out against her dark skin. She was glaring straight at me, and her gait turned purposeful.

I turned around and backed out of the alleyway, not caring if Calcifer was never found again. Hopefully I didn't appear as intimidated as I felt.

I was three steps away from the bridge when it happened.

Okay, guys, pay attention.

See, the bridge, Helena's Bridge, wasn't very big. It drops maybe about thirty feet into three feet of water, which is about as deep as Helena's River got. It was only a couple of miles long. That was probably why, even in this side of town, no one really jumped off of it to commit suicide. It would be way too painful, and it would probably fail. The bridge was supported by foot-wide pillars, a favorite sleeping spot for many a man. You could stay protected and hidden, which was ideal. Everything is white in the winter, since the black iron of the railing is covered in snow, and the gray stone is washed out.

It was back the way I had come, so I'd already crossed it in my search. If I had been three steps farther onto the bridge, where the railing was high and secure instead of just starting, nothing would have happened to me besides a scraped knee and a sore head.

Well, here goes.

Calcifer, it seemed, had taken the same path as I had, that is, starting up that alleyway and then turning around and back tracking. I didn't think a glaring prostitute would have scared him, so he must have just smelled something foul. I didn't know this, nor did I expect it. I had stopped paying attention to the ground, since I was no longer following his tracks. Maybe if I hadn't given up, I would have noticed him, but I guess karma works like that, doesn't it? Except, I hadn't really done anything to deserve this.

For maybe the hundredth time, I stepped on his tail. And for the hundredth time, he freaked out and attacked my legs. Now, out here, in the wide open, where I had never thought he would be, I couldn't form the thought in my head, 'It's just the stupid cat'. No, for whatever reason, I freaked out as well.

I swore again, jumping away, my heel coming down on the sidewalk… or something else. Immediately, I lost my balance, realizing from a tinging and scraping sound that it was the beer can I had kicked earlier. I fell onto my back, but I didn't land. I felt my legs and feet swing over my head, and suddenly I was right side up, wind rushing past my ears to the point where they popped. I was falling, right where the bridge began, where there was no railing. Stupid contractors.

In a panic, I shot my arms out. By mere luck my hand caught hold of a supporting beam from underneath, which had many corners and crevasses. My arm was nearly jerked out of its socket, I was swinging back and forth, and my heart was pounding so quickly that it hurt. I let out a cry of help, and kept crying. The incoming footsteps didn't register in my brain, so I attempted to save myself. I strained my muscles and tried to pull myself up. Using both of my hands to hold on, I readjusted my grip.

Okay, so animals never really liked me. I couldn't tell you why, but maybe it was because I wasn't very careful around them. When I readjusted my grip, I accidently squashed something soft, smooth, cold, and slick. Pain erupted in my wrist, and I screamed again, the fear making it hurt even worse. My hand was on fire.

I let go with my first hand, cradling it to my chest. It took several, arm tearing swings of my body to tell me that I shouldn't have done that. My second hand slipped.

Everything before had happened so quickly that I could hardly understand what was happening, but as I fell for real, time seemed to slow down.

_This can't be happening,_ I thought. I stared up at the bridge as it slowly drifted farther and farther away. At least I hadn't fallen with my face down, because I don't think I could've handled watching the water get closer.

My eyes were blurry from tears and fear, but a strange flash of color held their focus. The last thing I ever saw was blue, blue eyes staring at me in shock from up on the bridge.

Then everything was white and cold.

* * *

**I know guys, why am I starting ANOTHER FREAKING FANFIC WHEN I HAVE SO MANY OTHERS?!**

**I can't tell you, I just do it, despite all logic.**

**However, this fic will be a lot different from my others. See, those I try and have extensive plot twists and deeper meanings with character development up their asses, even though I haven't gotten to that point with any of them yet because of pacing. This fic will have some of that stuff, but I'm not taking it as seriously as my others. It's more of something to work on to redistribute my writer's block. Then again, even as I say that, I'm super excited about this. Please don't take that as I'm not working hard on it, because I am and I love reviews.**

**I'm sorry if she's a mary-sue, but this story will be light…ish. Hopefully I'll get some dark undertones in and hopefully this really takes off. I really like my oc here, even though I purposely made her a cocky, overconfident 'hotshot'. I do plan to develop her of course, just stick with it!**

_**REVIEW! I can't stress this enough. They inspire and encourage me to write. If you didn't like it tell me why, or give criticism, I don't mind, they help. Please, just please, REVIEW!**_

_**~Mao**_


	2. The Grim Reaper (Is a Teenage Girl)

**Disclaimer: I do not own Yu Yu Hakusho.**

* * *

It took me a while to actually figure out I was dead. I was just floating there in the sky, dreaming about being able to fly, and doing acrobatics. I was enjoying the lack of coldness, since it was winter and I couldn't feel anything at all. I was in a good mood.

I made the mistake of looking below me and into Helena's River. A blonde girl was floating in the water on her back, her blue eyes wide and glassy, like a doll's. Her hair was wasn't completely tied back, so locks of it spiraled around her face like a halo.

I screamed.

_What the hell?_ I 'flew' down to get a closer look. "That's… me?" I grabbed my head… well, my spirit head… "I'm dead!" I shrieked. I slapped my body in the face. "Wake up, you bitch!" My hand phased through it like it was a hologram. I stared at it in shock.

Suddenly I felt cold again, and my form began to tremble. I brushed my hand through the girl's body again, this time at a slower pace. The results were the same. Suddenly my eyes were stinging and my sight blurred. I didn't think ghosts could cry and actually produce tears, but that was what I was doing, and I couldn't stop them. At one point in time, the coldness turned to numbness, and I could no longer produce a coherent thought.

Once the sun finally began to set, a terrible sense of curiosity somehow managed to fend off the numbness. I just had to see what had happened back on the top of the bridge, no matter what mental state it would leave me in. What was the worst that could happen? I'd feel suicidal? Maneuvering through the air wasn't as exciting or as freeing as I thought it would be. There was no rushing wind, and my stomach didn't feel like flipping. It felt detaching, like I was invading a world I didn't belong to anymore, or watching from a screen.

There were traces of my footprints in the light, dusting snow, but they were illegible. The beer can, in its silver glory, was caved in on one side. It was several feet from where I actually stepped on it, indicating that it slide out from underneath my foot when I tipped to the side. Calcifer was nowhere to be seen, and the majority of his tracks were hidden under fresh snow. I began trying to suck in air, but it was impossible to do without lungs. I didn't feel like I was suffocating, but the sensation was uncomfortable, and I wanted it to cease more than anything.

I wasn't sure how long it took me to recover, but when I did, the only thing on my mind was the supporting beam I had grabbed onto in my last moments. I maneuvered back down from the sky, following the trajectory of my fall so that I would find the right beam. I needed to know what had pierced my skin, and what had made me let go. I floated closer, seeing a coil of brown, green, and black contrasted against the white beam. It was a snake. A sleek, dark, hibernating Adder, pretty much the only venomous snake in England.

I laughed. It was one of those painful laughs that made your chest sting and eyes water, or perhaps I was just crying. I couldn't stop, and my stomach began to grow sore.

_A Freaking snake! I would have been fine if it was another beam, bridge, or even a different country! A snake, in winter, just _happened_ to be asleep on the very beam I grabbed ahold of. _I was royally pissed off, my despair from before suddenly transmuting. And still, I laughed.

"I can't say that's the popular reaction," said a bemused voice. I jumped, swiveling around in shock. _A voice?_ There was no one behind, which confused me greatly. I could have sworn I had heard someone nearby, but the bridge was empty. There weren't any new foot prints, either.

"Hello!"

This time, I rapidly floated away, scared and tense. Again, there was no one in sight. I glanced down one side of the bridge, and then the other, but to no avail. Puzzled and frightened, I slowly backed away, still getting used to the flying.

Unexpectedly, I backed into something else that was flying in the air, and I swear, if I wasn't a ghost, I would have had a heart attack. I gasped and flung myself back over the bridge, still levitating, rolling in the air in such a way that I could clearly see behind me.

The panic stopped the same time the confusion rolled in. Midair, seated on a large, black scythe, was a girl. Her curly brown hair was pinned to her head in a bun, and her grey eyes were framed by dark eyelashes. She wore a white, delicate robe that draped over one shoulder. It was encrusted with gold, which held the robe up. She reminded me of a Greek goddess. Her levitating scythe was the only thing that contradicted her theme. I could see my reflection in its head.

"No need to be afraid," she chuckled, hiding her white-toothed smile behind her cupped hand in a lady-like manner.

_She can see me? Is she a ghost, too?_ I glanced at the river below us, spotting only my empty shell in the distance. There wasn't anything else, besides trash and pollution. I peeked back up at the floating scythe. _Why the hell does she have that thing?_

From the folds of her robes, she pulled out a tiny black book, a page marked with a ribbon. She flicked it open and held it to her nose.

"Gwyneth Faye, age sixteen, yes?" She peeked up at me.

"Um," I sputtered, "No, that's not me!" I backed away defensively. Denying her wasn't my brightest idea, but that floating scythe made me panic. I would've figured who she was if my brain wasn't so scrambled. At least I got the picture.

_Was she here to take me away…Forever?_

"Ah," she sighed, "now that's a more expected reaction." The book vanished into her sleeve again, and she casually placed her hands on her vehicle. "Hello, Gwyneth, my name is Charon. I'm a driver of the River Styx."

I scowled at her, a little peeved at how she asked who I was when she knew all along. Charon didn't particularly seem like a fitting name, as it wasn't as pretty and graceful as the girl before me, but it struck familiar chords in my head. I had definitely heard that name before.

Charon motioned to the river below, but I didn't look; I was sick of staring at my still body. "As you can see, you died."

"No shit," I cried, my patience running thin. You would think she had more tact, or a better way to approach this obviously sensitive topic. My heart began to hurt had her words, or at least where it was supposed to be, and suddenly the cold was back. I wasn't ready to hear those words yet.

"No need to be rude," the floating girl waved her hand at me. "After all, I'm here to do you a favor." I blinked at her in shock, not comprehending. _A Favor? Wasn't she here to take me to Heaven? Doesn't that scythe mean she's the Grim Reaper?_

Charon pointed at my arm. "Well… Let me explain. See, we don't like snakes."

I examined my hand dumbly. There was nothing on it, and it appeared just as it had that morning. Still, I was certain that I had been bitten by that snake when I was hanging off the bridge. A million questions ran through my mind. _Was the venom what had killed me? Did I drown?_

The only one that managed to come to my lips was, "We?"

"As in, the rulers of the Underworld? You have to know _something_ about us," Charon exclaimed. She was answered with silence. "The Ruler of the Underworld? You know, Pluto?" Charon swung towards me in irritation. My confusion and lack of recognition seemed to get on her nerves. "Never-mind," she growled at me, brushing some loose curls from her eyes. "It's no surprise you haven't heard of us when Humanity has declined so far back."

I frowned at her, not impressed. So far, Charon didn't seem like the celebrity she saw herself as. She was more a whinny teenager.

"Sorry," I returned sarcastically, "my bad."

Charon leveled her gaze at me, as if she was feeling merciful and would let that one slide. "Yes, well, I'll get to the point. I am here to offer you a deal."

I blinked at her. You would think that, after a while, this kind of thing would stop surprising me. Dying? The Grim Reaper? Snakes? A planet-that-isn't-a-planet-anymore? That kind of stuff was overwhelming. But a deal, with Charon, who wasn't here to take me to Heaven? That just didn't click.

"What is it?" I asked on autopilot.

Charon appeared to be taken aback by my lack of fanfare. "I-," she cleared her throat and began again in her normal, authoritarian voice. "It's a chance to get your life back."

I froze, my eyes widening. My life? Maybe this whole thing was just a dream, because that sounded pretty impossible to me. Then again, I _was_ a ghost. But the idea of going back to normal, of seeing my friends and family again, even of seeing Erika's pretty rich-girl face, was so enticing that I answered without hesitation. Suddenly, Charon's lack of tack, in which she told me I was dead, was extremely forgivable.

"We got a deal. What do I have to do?"

Charon chuckled behind her hand again, her eyes bemused. "First thing's first, Gwyneth," she reprimanded me, like I was a child. Considering she was the 'Driver of the River Styx,' she was probably hundreds of years old, so I guess it was appropriate. However, since she looked probably a year or two older than me, it was insulting. I tried not to let it bother me, since she was my only hope to live again.

Charon suddenly pointed into the distance. My forgetful mind followed her finger into the river, a limp body slowly, but surely, drifting away with the current. Hey, I was being overwhelmed, so it's perfectly understandable that I forgot that the body was mine for a few seconds. Right?

"You need to make sure you actually have a body to return to," Charon said.

When it finally hit me that it was mine, and how much distance it had covered just in the time that Charon had appeared, I immediately cried out.

"Hey! Where are the police! Where's my mom?"

A surprisingly solid hand rested on my shoulder. "You've only been gone for about three hours, and your mom thinks you are desperately searching for your missing cat," Charon comforted me. "Your friend filled her in."

_Only three hours? That was all?_

"So, my body is rapidly floating away, and no one even knows that I'm dead?"

"Or missing."

"You're not helping." I pinched my nose at the formation of a headache. "So what happens if I'm never found," I asked forebodingly, not sure if I wanted to hear the answer.

"You will probably rot and deteriorate to the point where your soul will be rejected. It doesn't take much," she admitted. Bile burned the back of my throat. I suddenly felt very ill.

"So what should we do? I don't know about you, but I can't touch anything. We can't just drag me to dry land, or a spot that I'll be seen easily."

Charon shook her head. "You're only hope is that you know someone with high Spirit Awareness."

"Spirit Awareness?" I echoed. I wasn't completely clueless as to what that meant, since it kind of defined itself, but I felt like I wasn't getting the whole concept. Did she mean a psychic? A medium? A fortune teller? Or was it simply someone who believed in ghosts? Lizzie was an avid believer, so maybe I could try and send her a message from beyond, but how? I turned to Charon expectantly.

"Someone with high Spirit Awareness will be able to feel your presence and communicate with you in your current state, at least, somewhat," she explained. I deflated.

"So a Psychic?" I didn't know anyone who even claimed to have special abilities.

"Not necessarily," Charon flicked back her hair again. "Anyone could sense spirits. Probably one in thirty humans, actually. Besides, most of the Psychics nowadays are lying cheats who don't know what they are talking about." I cringed away fromdistaste in her tone.

"So how would we know if someone has spirit awareness?" I questioned, redirecting the focus.

"Well…" Charon scratched the back of her curly head. "Guess and Check."

* * *

Lizzie emerged from her sister's bedroom, wiping slobber off of her arm. It had been a real hassle putting Sarah to sleep that night, and it was already a quarter past eight. It was partially her fault, Lizzie admitted, since she had forgotten to wake the toddler up during her nap, and now she wasn't tired.

The red head made her way to her island in her marble kitchen, stretching and yawning simultaneously. Opening her fridge, she pulled out a gallon of milk and proceeded to pour herself as glass.

"This isn't working," I cried, hovering two inches in front of Lizzie's face. Her eyes saw right through me, never once focusing on me. I had been trying to talk to her and catch her attention for the better part of ten minutes, even going so far as 'shaking' Sarah. The two year old could actually see me, Charon confirmed, and she could tell that something was wrong, but that was only because kids were more susceptible to the afterlife. When Sarah had first reacted to me, I had held up hope that maybe her spirit awareness ran in the family, but that apparently wasn't the case.

Charon, still seated on her scythe even though we were floating in a rich white girl's kitchen, brushed some of her pretty bangs from her eyes. "I can't sense anything extraordinary from her. We better move on."

I sighed, finally relenting on my unfelt attacks. I felt my eyes blur with incoming tears as I looked at Lizzie, normal and familiar in every way, as she downed a glass of milk.

_What if this is the last time I'll ever see you?_

I leaned in for a hug just in case, and even though it wasn't returned, I began to feel a lot better.

* * *

"Hey, Eydie!"

Back at my house, and inside my living room (did I mention how handy being a ghost was when you had to spy on someone? You could fly at high speeds, get to your destination in no time, and walk through walls!), I tugged at my little sister's hair. She had it in a nice little pony tail that I could easily grab ahold of. Charon drifted towards me in intense silence and concentration. She didn't seem to notice when I pushed off the handle of her vehicle and sent her in a different direction. The head of the blade had been two inches from my nine year old sister's throat, not that it would have actually hurt her, but the sight made me uncomfortable.

"Eeeeeeeee-deeeeeee!" I whaled, tugging at her head even harder, and even resorting to poking her in the face. She just continued on with using her Bratz doll to Karate chop my old teddy bear, as if nothing was there. I held my breath in case she responded late, but the only sound was the ignored television with SpongeBob. I growled in frustration.

"It's no use," Charon whined, lounging in a strange, reclining position. Her scythe was slanted downwards instead of horizontal, and she used it as a back rest while still suspended in midair. "From what I can tell, your family has less spirit awareness than the redhead, even that child." She glanced down at Eydie as she concocted creative battle cries. I face-palmed. Like a teenager in trendy clothes and heeled boots would _ever_ drop kick the evil, one-eyed Dr. Theodor.

I glanced up at my mum as she busied herself with the dirty dishes from the night before. Her back was to us and she faced the sink, as well as a window. Our living room and kitchen were right next to each other, with open doors so large that our couch could slid through them. Her blonde hair was shorter than when I had last seen her, and I recalled that she had had a hair appointment that day. Solemnly, I floated towards the kitchen, as if I were in a trance. I stopped a couple of feet behind her, just watching her work, as I had done so many times before.

"I would offer to help, but…" I trailed off, not sure why I was trying to talk to her when I knew she couldn't hear me. I peeked over my shoulder and into the living room to see Charon examining Eydie's other abandoned dolls that scattered the carpet unceremoniously.

Like with Lizzie, I floated closer to my mom until we were touching, although, not really. I had to refrain from hugging her with any pressure because I didn't want to phase right through her and into the sink. I rested my head on her shoulder from behind, and when she moved her arm to scrub, her elbow went right through my temple. I didn't care, and I wanted to stay there forever.

I jumped away when someone knocked at the door.

"Coming!" my mum called, drying her hands on a towel that she had draped over her shoulder. When she was finished with it, she tossed it at Eydie's head, and it connected with its target.

"Hey!" Eydie cried, giggling. She tied it around her face like a ninja mask and returned to combat. "Hiya!"

Curiously, Charon returned to her upright position on her scythe, and drifted to my side so we could peer through the door together.

My mum opened the door to see Tye, his dark hair dusted with snow and his cheeks unnaturally rosy. In his arms was a pure white, fluffy, fat cat, and it was fast asleep.

"Hi, Ms. Faye," he greeted, plopping Calcifer into my mum's open and relieved arms. "Is Gwen here? I tried calling her cell, but she won't pick up."

* * *

**Hey guys! First of all, I can't believe how many reviews I got for a single chapter. You have no idea how grateful I am, and I sincerely hope you stick around with me. I'm sorry for any mistakes or typos.****  
****I am happy to say that, after many a notebook paper, I actually have a plan for this fic, and personally, I believe it is one of my best yet. As a warning, I should tell you guys that the beginning will be focused around my OC, and will not have much to do with Yusuke and Company. Hopefully, in a few chapters (it depends on my starting and stopping points) we'll have our first meetings. I'm super excited for this fic.****As for Charon and Pluto, I have a little explaining to do. I plan to introduce the European afterlife, mainly the Roman/Latin one, as a sort of counterpart to the Asian one that we see in YYH. Pluto is the equivalent of Koenma, and Charon is the equivalent of Botan. Although, Pluto isn't a baby. There are going to be many mythology references! And I know that, in the English dub, the characters make references to how they live in an English speaking country, but scratch that off, because…Well, they **_**are**_** in Japan. At first, I wasn't going to have Gwen live in England, but after the first chapter, I began to plan how the afterlife is set up; the most detailed and popular belief of the under/spirit world is in control of the entire CONTINENT. I wanted the Roman after life because for Gwen, so… Europe it is! But Yusuke will come up, I swear, because this is just one side of the River Styx. What river doesn't branch off?****  
****Anyway, thanks for reading.****  
****AND REVIEW. PLEASE. PRETTY PLEASE? I hope we can have another great turn out!**

~Mao


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